


The Burial Of The Dead

by Lothiriel84



Series: The Waste Land [1]
Category: The Bunker (Podcast)
Genre: Drinking, Drunk Sex, Explicit Language, Gen, M/M, The Author Regrets Everything, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 06:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11481033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothiriel84/pseuds/Lothiriel84
Summary: Oh keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men,Or with his nails he'll dig it up again!





	The Burial Of The Dead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wolfsmilch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsmilch/gifts).



That was one of the most insane ideas Dave had ever had, he mused somewhat sluggishly, relishing the way the alcohol burned pleasantly at the back of his throat. It had been damn too long ever since any of them had had some booze; Tom had long passed out on the console of their obsolete radio transmitter, and was now snoring inelegantly with his mouth pressed over the controls.

“Lightweight,” Dave commented, shaking his head in Tom’s general direction. He poured himself another glass of his homemade liquor, and for a moment there, David genuinely admired his uncommonly high tolerance for alcohol. He was already a couple of drinks past enjoyably intoxicated, and the room was starting to spin ever so slightly around him; still, he strove to focus on the warmth that was spreading down his limbs, and the pleasing buzz in his head, which was a welcome change from the dark, cold emptiness of his own thoughts.

“Sugar and yeast,” he muttered to himself, before draining his glass. “Why didn’t we think of that before?” The liquor tasted like liquid fire in his mouth, but then again he was a firm believer that alcohol was more of an antidote to self-awareness rather than something you were supposed to enjoy per se.

“Well, to be fair, we are running out of those too,” Dave shrugged, nursing his drink. “You’d better get smashed while you still can, mate.”

“I’m pretty sure we’re all going to regret this tomorrow,” he felt the need to point out, for some reason. “Plus, what if some savages decide to attack us, and we’re too sick to fight back?”

“Why do you always have to be like that?” Dave replied at length, his tone somewhere between bitter, and exasperated. “Why can’t you just, you know, enjoy things for a change?”

Silence fell between them, a cold, unpleasant feeling settling in David’s stomach. “I used to, before everything went to hell. I quite liked my life as it was, Dave – I didn’t ask for the world to end, and take everything I loved with it.”

“Shit, I’m – sorry, David. I didn’t mean – can we forget I ever said that?”

He took a deep breath, stared at his empty glass as if he could somehow crush it under his gaze. “Yeah. Whatever. I think I’m going to have a lie down.”

The numbing effect of alcohol had vanished like fog in the unforgiving heat of the Wasteland, leaving him more hollow than ever before. He hobbled to his feet, stopped dead in his tracks when he felt the pressure of Dave’s hand on his shoulder.

“Do not – touch me,” he hissed, stumbled away from the unwanted contact. “Ever. Do I make myself clear?”

“Let me just walk you to your room,” Dave offered, stubbornly – though he could detect a hint of fear in his eyes. And just like that, his brain sort of blacked out, and he found himself caging the smaller man against the nearest wall, his fingers digging into his biceps in a way that was warranted to cause some pain.

“Did it ever occur to you that I’m fucking tired of this life, Dave? That the only reason that keeps me from shooting a bullet through my head is that you two would be dead the second I leave you to fend for yourselves?”

“That’s not even true,” Dave protested feebly, made a token effort to free himself from his hold. His breath was coming in ragged pants now, his pupils dilated as he writhed under David’s glare.

David knew it was the alcohol talking there, and yet he simply couldn’t stop himself. “Or, could it be that you secretly want me to punish you, Dave? I can get behind that, you know.”

Dave let out a soft whimper, willingly let himself be pushed further against the wall. “You’re going to be ever so sorry before I’m finished with you,” he whispered in his ear, revelling in the way the other man shivered under his touch.

He finally relinquished his hold, ran his palm down the front of Dave’s trousers, slowly and with purpose. “David, please,” he heard him beg, decided they could easily write it down as an alcohol-induced mistake, in the days to come.

He flicked the button open, allowed himself a small grin as Dave’s head hit the wall with a soft thud. Tomorrow, he was going to get rid of all of Dave’s alcoholic reserve, make sure that this would never happen again.

In the meantime, he was going to ensure they both forgot about the misery of their own existence, if only for a short while.


End file.
